


Deniability

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Distress and Disarray [52]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Feelings, M/M, Protectiveness, Rank Disparity, Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: In which Washington fields outside concerns, but at least he knows Hamilton is safe.





	Deniability

The prospect of maintaining an illusion of patience and composure through the remainder of the negotiations is nearly enough to drive Washington to mutiny. There's no telling how much time will now be wasted re-treading old ground, considering petitions from previously omitted parties, regaining enough equilibrium to achieve further forward momentum.

Washington nearly balks at the idea of standing in his designated position for another day. And another after that. A seemingly endless marathon of tepid concessions and pointless grandstanding.

At least he continues with the knowledge that Hamilton is safe aboard the Nelson.

It's a mixed blessing for the simple fact that the distance puts Hamilton completely beyond his reach. Washington offered no protest when Admiral Dinwiddie ordered the entire contingent of recovered officers and personnel back to the ship, Such is standard procedure—it would be unreasonable to expect _anyone_ to continue their assignments after multiple days in captivity—and Washington had no grounds to request an exception. There was no way to keep Hamilton close without keeping him on active duty, and Washington couldn't do that even if he _were_ so selfishly inclined.

So Hamilton is absent, and Washington has no choice but to carry on, projecting a calm he has not felt in days.

Five days after the small portion of his crew departs for the Nelson, Washington takes himself to the empty balcony, where he and Burr conferred about their discreet investigations in defiance of orders. He is grateful for even this brief moment alone. Today's session left him confident an agreement is finally within reach. Perhaps it will only be a matter of days before the signing of the meticulous document—the dramatic closing ceremonies—the symbolic exchange of trinkets and tokens, _at last_ followed by an end to this interminable mission.

Washington prays for his predictions to be true. In a long life of military service, he has never been quite this impatient to return to his command.

The slide of the door behind him is barely louder than the gusting wind, but Washington still turns his head at the sound. He is surprised, though not especially alarmed to see Admiral Braddock emerging from the dim hallway into bright sunlight.

"At ease, General." Braddock waves him off with a dismissive gesture. "We're not on duty, and I can't deal with another minute of pomp and decorum."

Washington's posture relaxes only slightly as Braddock joins him at the railing. This is the first either of his superiors has allowed a suggestion of displeasure with the duration of their engagement. It might be an invitation for agreement, and for Washington to air his own grievances.

But Washington doesn't trust Braddock far enough to return the show of candor. He simply nods and, without a word, turns once more to lean his arms atop the cool metal railing.

Silence stretches between them for a long time, stiff and uncomfortable. Washington refuses to ask why Braddock has sought him out, but he is equally unwilling to proffer pointless smalltalk. He came outside for solitude. In a less taxed state of mind and heart, perhaps he would make some effort towards diplomacy. As it stands, he can't be bothered.

At last Braddock speaks. "If I may offer some unsolicited advice, General? Entirely off the record of course."

Washington's guard rises, and he turns his head toward the admiral.

"Of course." He keeps his expression as bland and blank as he can manage.

Braddock hesitates as though searching for delicate words, then finally says, "It's admirable that you prioritize the wellbeing of your officers. A good general _must_ have a care for his subordinates. But it's possible to carry a good thing too far."

Washington's first frantic thought is that somehow Braddock knows. He has noticed Washington's preoccupation with Hamilton in particular, and is searching for tangible confirmation of wrongdoing.

But even as he maintains a practiced inscrutability, he takes in Braddock's expression and realizes: this is no thinly veiled rebuke or threat. Braddock is watching him with worry that _must_ be sincere, no glimmer of disapproval, nothing to indicate he suspects Washington of greater indiscretion. Against all reason and evidence, Braddock is apparently operating under the misapprehension that Washington's violent concern was equal among _all_ his missing crew members.

It's a blemish on Washington's honor that this is not the case. He _does_ worry over every member of his crew, yes. But if his boy had not been among those taken, the kidnapping would not have shaken his stern self-possession.

What Braddock is suggesting is a problem, yes. No general—no Starfleet officer of any rank—can afford to have their judgment compromised when their subordinates most need them. But it's also an order of magnitude _less_ than Washington's actual breach of protocol. Coping poorly with the stress of missing crew members is nothing compared to indulging a secret romantic entanglement with a direct subordinate of vastly lower rank.

Donning a look that he hopes strikes a balance between consideration and contrition, Washington allows, "You're right, of course. I'll comport myself better in future."

Braddock nods, apparently satisfied, and turns for the door. He stops just before the mechanism has a chance to slide open, and offers one last volley over his shoulder.

"I read Colonel Burr's report. A fascinating bit of luck and coincidence, that so much detailed intel should have reached him by chance. Even luckier that it helped lead to our missing people."

"Yes," Washington agrees mildly. He has read Burr's report, and found it a symphony of artful evasions and half truths. "Lucky indeed."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Waste, Tepid, Trinket


End file.
